Carlisle's Story
by LaurenFacinelli
Summary: Carlisle's Story from his transformation all the way to Breaking Dawn as builds his career and family against the odds. Rated T for now...
1. Carlisle's Transformation

**Hello everyone! This is my first ever fanfic, although I have been reading it for ages. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**PS. I don't own Twilight. I wish I did.**

17th November 1666

Carlisle POV

As I rinsed my trembling hands in the basin of water, I mulled over the plan for tonight. I and the group were to venture to the opening joining the sewage to the River Thames. I was pretty sure there was a group of some sort of creatures hiding out there, and I was also pretty sure that they were to blame for the increasing deadly and indiscriminate attacks on Londoners since the end of the plague and Great fire. Whilst I didn't relish killing, I did relish the idea of helping to end the constant tragedy that seemed to follow the city.

Vampires. That was what they called them. Just like the myths my Father would tell me on Sunday afternoons, after church, when I was a boy. But now, approaching my twenty fourth birthday, the myth had seemingly become a terrifying reality.

I tightened the buckles on my shoes and stepped out of my house, the unmistakeable feeling of fear in my stomach. The group was waiting for me, flame torches and homemade weaponry held high in the air.

"Ready to rid our city of these murderous parasites eh, Carlisle?" called my dearest friend Humphrey. We believed his wife had been killed by the monsters, ending a most terrible year for him, in which he lost both his two children and mother to the Plague. I was ready. I would do it for him, if not for my Father.

"To the sewers!" I yelled with a fake mask of confidence covering my face. The party cheered and followed my lead. It was past midnight and pitch black, only our torches lit the way. Soon enough, we were there. The brave masquerade had completely disappeared, the terror could be felt from every single one of the party. I tried to keep my cool, calculating some sort of plan.

"What now, C?"

What now, indeed.

"I'll go in..." I suggested, half-heartedly. I said a quick prayer, asking God to help bring me to heaven if I was killed. Then, some outside power moved my left foot closer into the cave. And then it all happened...

As soon as I took my second step, I heard an ear shattering roar.

"RUN!" I stumbled away as fast as I could, hearing the creature running after me, looking ahead to the chaotic yells and running of my friends. That is, until I felt the most terrible pain I ever had in my left arm. It felt like my arm was on fire, and I knew I was going to die. Then suddenly, the creature twitched and ran away. Amongst the burning, I noticed Humphrey standing bravely with blood pouring from his wrist, a small knife in his other hand. The creature pounced on him as I realised- he had done this for me. He had sacrificed himself for his friend. As the burning raged on, I realised what was happening. I was turning into one of them. Humphrey's sacrifice had been in vain. I was transforming into a disgusting, murderous, evil...vampire. I thought about what my Father would do to me if he ever found me- that was if I didn't kill him first. I ran as fast as my legs could take me and all the while my pain worsened. I eventually found myself in a potato cellar and decided to hide until the ferocious pain ever stopped.

**So that was the first chapter of my first published fanfic! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review whether you liked it or not! Thanks!**


	2. Failed Attempts and New Beginnings

**Chapter 2 is up already- I'm really enjoying this! However, I only received 1 review for the last chapter (thankyou, Melasaurus!), so please, if you have the time, leave a short review- it helps so much. Thankyou and enjoy-hopefully!**

It might have been 3 or 4 days after the attack that the pain finally began to subside- that I could finally stop trying not to scream. However, the burning was still raging on in my throat. After maybe 4 more days, I gave up waiting for that to end. I sat up and began to take everything in, and, as I looked upwards into the dark, I noticed a small spider casting an intricate web in the corner of the ceiling. How could I see that well? Father always would tell me that I needed spectacles, but I doubted even a fully sighted person could notice that amongst the black. My ears twitched, and I examined what I could hear. The sound of the nearby Thames flowing almost shattered my eardrums. I could faintly hear the unmistakeable chimes of the grand cathedral...on the other side of the city. Was this part of the change? Was this how the Vampire noticed its prey? With a metaphorical stab to my heart, I realised that this was the reason for the burning sensation which continued in my throat. I was thirsty.

Thirsty. Thirsty for human blood! My natural sense of compassion told me I couldn't. I wouldn't. I would destroy myself. What did I have to live for? Nothing. I would do it tonight, when the sun set, and everyone was settling down and out of my reach.

Later that evening, as the dim light shining through the hole in the cellar faded to a dark blue, I pulled myself up, ready to leave London immediately. I needed to get somewhere where I could destroy myself with no chance of anyone coming to close. I didn't know what I could do on impulse, but I wasn't keen on finding out.

Whilst I was impressed for a split second at my newfound super speed, I quickly realised that I had to use it to get out of London. I found myself in a rural area in quick time, and found a small but deep river. I would do it now, I thought. I knelt by the bank and prayed to God to bring me to heaven despite the evil creature I had become, just as I did before I ventured into the cave several nights earlier. When I had said my prayers, I jumped. The disorienting feeling of being plunged into cold water was less so. I opened my mouth, aiming to fill myself with water and quickly be gone. But, to my dismay, this had no effect, and I breathed easily on impulse. I could breathe underwater. I climbed up the bank and considered my next option.

My skin felt like hard rock, and my mind thought back to the summer of 1655, when Humphrey and I had accompanied our fathers on a hike to escape the city and be closer to God. Whilst our Fathers searched for an Inn, we played by a cliff, throwing off stones and watching them smash into pieces when they hit the bottom. I winced as I remembered how Father had pulled me away from the edge by my ear, telling me that if I fell I would die, and that God would send me to hell for my foolishness. This time, I would be the rock. My rock hard "flesh" would smash, and may God send me to heaven instead.

I searched for a suitable spot, the incessant burning in my throat making it nigh impossible to concentrate. I eventually found a tall cliff and looked over the edge, seeing hard, grassy rocks below. I wasted no time and threw myself off the edge with all the power I could muster. With a large smash, everything went black.

Slowly, I became aware that I was conscious, and, as I began to regain focus, I glanced down and watched in horror as a large crack in my wrist healed itself. Was I immortal? –Doomed to kill forever? The thought would have made me physically sick if I still had a grasp of human feelings.

I mulled over things for a while. I decided that, if vampires were immortal, why would my burning throat be telling me to feed? Starvation was the answer. I knew it would be painful, but it would be nothing compared to the heartache felt by my potential victim's families- or my guilt, if I didn't.

I pulled myself solemnly to an area of woodland where I was sure no human would come. I waited. I burned. Then waited. Then burned again. After maybe a week I began to feel the thirst driving me insane. I forgot who I was. Who was I? Why was I here? Why was my throat on fire? Every now and then, a scrap of self-comprehension would pass through me. It was during these moments that I could ask myself why it wouldn't work. Why wasn't working? Why wasn't I dead? Then, who was I? Why was I here? Why was my throat on fire?

After maybe two weeks of waiting, a peculiar scent drifted into my subconscious. I snapped. Everything was a blur. When I realised that the fire in my throat had subsided, and I finally regained some sort of sanity, I stepped back to take in the sight of five deer carcases lying before me, and in the distance I saw the rest of their herd galloping away. I could easily hear the terror in their screeches. As I examined the carcases more closely, I realised their forms were altered, as if their skin no longer fit the bones. It was when I licked my lips to taste a liquid with a taste similar to their scent, it dawned on me. I had drank animal blood. It wasn't fine dining, but it was edible. I could survive on the blood of animals. More importantly, I could survive without the need for human blood. I could survive without killing a creature with a soul. I didn't have to be evil. Could I be near humans? Not yet, certainly, I thought, wincing as I remembered how the burning had increased tenfold as I had ran through the city streets of London. Could I train myself? I was animal. Every animal could be trained if enough time and effort was put in. I could do it. I would do it. I would be a _good vampire_.

**I hope you liked it! Please review- thankyou!**


	3. Finally, Some Answers

**Third chapter is now up! (Admittedly, at the second attempt- I'm still new to this and forgot to put on any sort of note!) Anyway, please review and I hope you like it!**

I knew that it was not in any way even thinkable to try and become civilised until I had almost completely discovered myself as this new being. So for several months I spent my time living in the Hertfordshire forest, "testing out" my body and feeding on animals when necessary. To try and lighten my mood, I would joke to myself that I was a "vegetarian" vampire, and that deer usually represented my main meals whilst I would "snack" on foxes or squirrels. The need to hunt was almost incessant, and I would feed at least once per day, if not more. When I wasn't drinking blood, I was experimenting:

For example, I approached a reasonably large tree and, as part of my self-experimentation, proceeded to pull it out of the ground by the roots with a shocking amount of ease. My strength didn't stop there- everything I touched seemed to break. I could jump from one side of the river to the other at its impressively widest section. I could climb up trees at lightning speed, as if my hands and feet stuck to the trunk. It seemed like black magic. I could understand why my father wanted to kill these creatures. I was indestructible- to a human I would be lethal. Once I had finished my child's play amongst the trees, I dropped down to the ground, landing like a cat with not a single hint of stumble, and wandered into small opening in the forest, where the sun's rays illuminated the otherwise dark and rotting forest floor. It was the first sunny day in my immediate memory, and it was when I stepped into this sunlight that I made my most peculiar discovery yet. As I looked fleetingly downwards, my eyes were immediately drawn to my bare arms where my sleeves were rolled up. It was not the white skin I had become used to- but what looked like thousands of sparkling diamonds covering my arms. I unbuttoned my shirt to test my torso, which also began to sparkle under the sun's stare. I didn't understand why but the sparkles seemed to possess my mind- was I the work of the devil itself? Perhaps so, because whilst I was thinking this, a large part of me didn't care. Every new discovery made it even more clear to me that integrating into a human society would be as difficult as resisting human blood.

Once I had discovered these new characteristics of my being, and the novelty had worn off, life diffused into a lonely, mundane existence. Trying to control my thirst was the hardest thing. Every now and then, a scent would drift into the vicinity. I could always tell it was human when the burning in my throat raged, and I had to claw into the ground to stop myself following the scent and ripping the scent's owner to pieces and devour the liquid my throat craved. When I had pulled myself together, I would look down at the ground where my hands had clung on, to see large, deep gouges in the soil. They looked like the devil's footprints. When this happened, I was at my loneliest, and I would think of Humphrey- how we played- and prayed together. More than once I was convinced he had come down from heaven to see me, assure me. He would tell me that I could be good- that he was happy and with his wife. The voices inside my mind argued with each other over whether he was an angel sent from God, or a trick of my naturally evil mind. For the first time in almost five years I thought of Elizabeth Goodfellow, the daughter of another pastor at my Father's church. Our parents hoped we would marry. I thought of her long golden locks which flowed down to her lower back, of her piercing blue eyes and white, English skin. I remembered the way she would always say to me: "I will cherish that day I become your wife, dear Carlisle." Did I love her? I suppose I never got the chance. One Sunday she missed church, and I worried that she would be sent to the gallows. No need. She had caught a severe chill, and was buried the next week. My father told me to bury her in the very depths of my mind, for she was with God now, and in a happier place. I would find a bride one day, he said, and she would be mine forever. No longer, I thought, given that I was a vampire.

Loneliness always had made me self-conscious. It was only now that I decided to take a look at the pocket mirror I kept. Humphrey had always laughed at me, saying I would become "ladylike and altogether vain" if I took it wherever I went, but I loved it because it was a present from my Mother. It had been hers, and she had given it to me when I was five years old, when she knew she was going to die. It was ornately decorated with the Cullen family crest engraved into its casing. I opened it up carefully, trying not to smash it with my careless vampire fingers, and gasped at what I saw staring back at me.

It was me, but it wasn't. Every imperfection on my face was gone. As I examined removed my clothes to examine my body, I saw the same thing. Although I had already become used to the whitish dun skin, I was shocked to discover that every scar, mole and freckle, for I used to have many, had gone. After I had put back on my ripped and bloodstained clothes, I turned my attention back to my most startling feature of all- the eyes. When I was a human they were light blue but now they stared back at me a blood red, enough to make me thirsty. As my throat began to ache, I watched my eyes darken into black. In this instant, I gave up on living in human society ever again. I was condemned to this tedious existence until the day of judgement.

I lived in this mundane manner for what must have been several months, for it was difficult to work out when exactly my first encounter with another of my kind since my change happened, given that the tedious nature of what was now normal life- feed, wander, feed, wander- made the days and months blur in to one. However, I would perhaps estimate that it was now sometime in the winter of 1667, and I was no longer in Hertfordshire- I would wander to new places just to pass the time of day. The day was like any other; I walked through the dense forest, which was covered in a large blanket of snow, which sparkled like my sun touched skin. I smiled to myself. Snow was one of my favourite of God's gifts; for me, its untouched beauty represented a message from Him, spurring me on, telling me to keep faith in His plan for me. It served as a stunning aid to the peace and tranquil nature of winter. But life's experiences had taught me that tranquillity never lasts too long, and all of a sudden the terribly perfect smell of human blood became apparent. My several months practise meant that keeping control was less impossible, if not easier, than before. As I regained control of my body and mind, I noticed one- no, two other scents. They weren't human, and they were far more pleasant than any animal scent I had experienced. One was sweet and floral, the second musty. It was then that I heard the voices.

"Where should we bury it, William?"

"Leave it, Cassandra, it's just food!"

"We have to stop being so conspicuous! You heard what the Volturi said, don't leave them lying around or we'll be discovered- they don't give second chances, Will, your sister knew that better than anyone!"

"Fine! Just bury it by this tree, the vultures will sniff it out soon in enough and finish all the flesh..."

_They were vampires!-The "carnivore" sort!_

I followed the scents quickly- I had to speak to them- perhaps they could give me the answers to so many of my questions!

I hid behind the trees whilst the vampires buried the human body they had just fed from. I didn't feel disgusted, only stronger than them, for they were simply acting on the natural instinct of their kind. A feeling of fear similar to before my encounter in the London sewage arose in my stomach, as I studied the pair, who still seemed consumed by the addictive stench of the man. The female, Cassandra, had a sort of dangerous beauty about her. Her thin, white face was framed by long red locks, which were savagely matted with blood. Her lips were a deep red, giving a very seductive air about her. Her companion, this William, looked nothing other than terrifying- he was the perfect image of the fantasy style vampires of the old myths and legends. His black hair was twisted into a ponytail, his eyes dark and empty. He wore on his face an aggressive expression as he reluctantly buried his prey. They looked older than me, perhaps in their forties. The last lumps of soil were thrown over the corpse and that was when they noticed my scent, their heads snapping up in my direction in perfect unison. The male twisted his head, studying me as if I was different to them.

"Who are you?" the male's throaty voice was akin to the drunk who used to stagger past our house shouting.

"Carlisle Cullen, sir. I'm awfully sorry to intrude; I just caught your scents and felt I had to talk to you. I'm new to this life, I have no one. There are so many things I don't understand."

"You want to know about us? What about you? Your eyes are not the eyes of our kind! What do you feed on?" he asked, in a tone one might use if someone took a naked flame into a wine cellar-

"Animal blood. Mostly deer."

"Aha! Let us go Cassandra, we'll not waste any more time with this fool- whoever heard of feeding on animals?"

"—no!" objected Cassandra, who then turned to me—"what do you want to know, dear?"

If she had known quite how many questions I had wanted to ask, she might have run away, but Cassandra answered them all fully and obligingly. I finally had some comprehension of my being. I learnt that the changes in my appearance were aimed at making me more physically attractive, with the intent of drawing in stunned human prey. Only fire could truly kill me and my heightened senses were also to improve hunting skills. They had never met another vampire who fed on the blood of animals in place of humans, in all their 500 years. Cassandra suspected my eyes had changed colour from red to golden thanks to my consumption of non-animal blood. My resistance to human blood had improved because I was reaching the end of my "newborn" status. My natural nosiness intervened at one stage when I asked what they had been talking about earlier when they mentioned the Volturi's last warning. William rolled his eyes and muttered "eavesdropping so and so", but Cassandra cast a serious expression and exclaimed

"Ooh, you need to know about them! The Volturi are... well I suppose they're the self-proclaimed "Royal Family" of vampires... they don't have many rules, but if you do break one, you're in trouble. We were summoned to Volterra- in Italy- that's where they live, recently for leaving our food lying around- arouses suspicion, you see. So if we do it again, they'll kill us- make it painful too. The extent of their gifts is terrifying..."

"Their gifts?"

"Oh, yes, gifts. Certain vampires develop gifts- special powers, if you like. We know many vampires. Some can tell the future. Some can physically torture you, just by thinking about it. Now I think about it, one the Volturi guard can do that. They can do anything- take away your senses, read your thoughts...they can do it all, the Volturi."

"Do I have a gift? How can I tell?"

"It depends. What have you noticed about you that has changed since you were transformed?"

I spent several minutes describing the speed and the senses and the sparkling and everything else down to every meticulous detail, trying to ignore the rolling eyes and impatient, angry sighs from William. After hearing my bit, Cassandra could come to her conclusion.

"In my personal opinion, Mr Cullen, you don't have a particular gift as such, but, tell me, would you consider yourself a sympathetic person in your human life?"

I told her yes, I supposed so.

"Well child, it's believed that in vampires who do not gain a precise gift or ability, a certain physical or emotional trait which they excelled in, in their human lives is enhanced. Given that you abstain from human blood- your natural diet, out of compassion for humans tells me that it is exactly that which has been enhanced by the change – your compassion."

After several hours of further interrogation, Cassandra finally gave in to her mate – for that really was the case for vampires, who apparently acted of physical desire without the requirement of matrimony, alluding straight to their –or our – animalistic nature. I was surprised William had not ripped me apart with his typically razor sharp teeth several hours earlier, and Cassandra said they must be going on their way. They left somewhat hurriedly, and left me to ponder my new found knowledge. I thought particularly hard about what they had said about the changing colour of my eyes, and my improved resistance to human blood – granted, it was still no where feasible to live near humans, but it gave me renewed hope that I could train myself. I decided that from now on I would try venturing closer to areas populated by humans, starting in the night, when they were not on the streets. I would set about finding some new clothes, for my only set – the set I had been wearing since the night of the change – were almost completely ruined, and only just covered my most intimate parts. Once I was dressed like a normal human being, I could start pretending to be one.

**I hope you enjoyed the latest installment- please review- I'd love to find out what you liked, what you didn't, how it was written etc. Thanks!**


	4. Humanification: Step 1

**Hello everyone, chapter 4 is here! I'm anticipating longer delays from now on as it will be more difficult to create a route into human society for Carlisle, such as, how does he start studying? Where does he meet the Volturi? –We don't really know much about Carlisle. I will think of something though! Also, my exams are starting and much of my free time is being taken up with revision. (Boo!) Anyway, please enjoy chapter 4:**

April, 1669

Over the past couple of years since my change, my life itself had changed more than I ever could have imagined it would in such a small space of time. I thought back to my meeting with the nomads in the forest; the catalyst for the chain reaction which set my self-development in motion.

Less than two days after my epiphany –of sorts – I took a long hunting trip, feeding myself up more than I ever had done before. I was going to venture into the realms of human civilisation. Perhaps I should have waited longer, but my curiosity and chronic loneliness was in complete control of my conscious, and I therefore chose to start my "human rehabilitation" straight away.

Once nightfall had arrived, and only the dim stars lit my way, I decided to start my hunt for any town or village. As I walked, I examined the stars, picking out particularly bright ones. My mother told me before she died that stars were like little houses in heaven, where the angels went to live once their human selves had died. The second brightest one, I thought to myself, was Humphrey. I could almost picture his bronze hair and crooked smile in front of me. The brightest one was my Mother. A repulsing feeling of anxiety and shame washed over my body. I couldn't bear the thought of her looking down and watching her only son becoming a _vampire._

I had been walking several hours when the familiarly enticing scent entered my proximity. I was getting close. I was getting close to humans. Dawn was nearly here, and my mind knew it would be foolish to go any further. My heart, as is always said, had other ideas. Before I knew it, I was standing before a thatched cottage. The burning sensation in my throat was unbearable. I ran off before I could let my body take over me. I was ever so slightly aware of crashing into a nearby tree in my poorly controlled haste to get away. I heard voices. As I ran, the scent died down and I began to feel safer. I realised then that their voices hurt me so much more than the thirst; the uneasy feeling was just as bad in my stomach as my throat, as I contemplated my own loneliness. It only served to make me more determined to reacquaint myself with humanity. As I caught the familiar sparkles on my naked skin as the dawn sun began to rise, I decided to stay at the edge of the forest, to necessarily hunt again, and to return closer to the cottage throughout the day, testing my self-control, and, if I returned to find its inhabitants gone for the day, I would perhaps venture in and take some clothes, and anything else I thought useful. I knew stealing was a sin, but I thought God might allow it as compensation for the alternative – accidentally killing and devouring human blood, especially as the clothes would help me achieve my first step on my road to a vaguely normal life.

I knew that without a fresh supply of blood, my body would be unmanageable when I neared human scents. As I was out of the denser areas of forest, hunting proved more difficult than usual, but I found myself a badger and a couple of large foxes. A few hours later, once my thirst had been satisfied, I retraced my earlier steps to the clearing where I had found the cottage in the early morning hours. The almost sensual scent of human blood began to fill my nostrils, although, the smell was not so strong as this morning, and as the cottage came into view, I stopped to listen carefully, my tuned Vampire ears picking up no sounds relevant to human presence, and I ascertained that no-one was home.

Not that the scent was much easier to handle. I struggled to remember what I was doing and why I was there, being far more preoccupied with the hot burning in my throat and the venom pooling in my mouth. _Stop it, Carlisle, _I thought._ You're stronger than this._

I went to open the ornately patterned red front door and, to avoid smashing it down, imagined that I was pushing something as light as a feather. Even so, the padlock snapped and the door swung violently open. I sighed. At least it had stayed on its hinges. I looked around the room, the human scent becoming even more persistent.

If I could have someway forced out a tear, I would have. It was the perfect picture of family life; the perfect picture of the life I craved but would never have. There was a large hearth, the scent of the fresh ash from last night's log fire crept through that of human blood. Three wooden chairs sat next to the fireplace, round an oak table covered in pieces of material and thread. Perhaps they would create a dress for a baby girl. The large windows fed light on to the kitchen area where a large wood fire cooker was placed, the scent of freshly baked bread clinging to the particles in the air. It had always been my favourite smell. Now it was repulsive, but it still invoked painfully happy memories of my Mother kneading the dough at the high table in our kitchen at home.

I approached the staircase. To a human's eyes, it would have looked perfectly straight, but I could see it was slightly crooked. I climbed carefully, so as to not crash right through the steps. I was upstairs now, and I walked through a door immediately to my right. A large bed filled much of the room, which also housed a small mirror, and a chest of drawers. I slowly opened a draw to find it full of men's clothing.

_Dear Lord, please forgive me for my theft, _I thought. I began to dress myself, for my clothes had recently become almost completely destroyed. I did worry I might destroy this set; it was sin enough to steal another man's possessions for one's own gain, but to steal and then ruin another man's possessions was quite another. However, I was confident that my hunting had become much more controlled and clean recently, and therefore elected to continue dressing.

_4 months later_

I had spent the past few weeks practicing being a human, in the sense that my nights were spent learning to hunt with enough caution to keep my new clothes relatively decent, if not completely clean; I would spend my days practicing spending prolonged periods of time near humans, venturing close to the cottage and practicing my self control as I watched the young wife tend to her daughter whilst her husband went to work as a carpenter – I had seen him chopping bits of wood in the forest close to their home. At first, the thirst was again difficult to bear, but as the days, weeks and months went by, I noticed my self control gradually increase. As I stood here right before the cottage, the grey sky above protecting my sparkling identity, I contemplated the step I was about to take. If my plan went smoothly, I would kill two birds in one stone; I would find the direction to the south coast, (for I had thought on a whim to leave the country and avoid meeting anyone from my previous life) and actually talk to a human, breathe in the same air they breathed, for the very first time since my change. If the plan didn't go smoothly, I could find myself stood before a blood drained family on the floor and my dream of a human lifestyle in metaphorical shatters beside them.

My thirst was fully sated. I wasn't about to get any more prepared – not for another couple of months, anyway. I trod slowly towards the quaint front door and gently knocked. After what seemed like years, but was, in reality, only a few seconds, the handle began to turn and the door slowly opened. My nostrils flared and the scent heightened, I could almost feel my eyes turning black and my throat screaming. I managed to distract myself by analysing the appearance of the man in front of me, for it was the first time I had seen him from a distance of shorter than one hundred yards.

He was not quite as tall as me, perhaps around six foot. His black wiry hair was long and messy although his moustache and beard were shaped rather quaintly, reminding me momentarily of my Father, who rather amusingly believed that well groomed facial hair was a sign of masculine power. Perhaps he was right. I had seen this man wielding a large axe in the forest. His eyes were on me, and widened, perhaps at my slightly supernatural appearance, then narrowed as he saw my clothes and probably wondered how they looked so similar to the precise set he had misplaced four months before.

"Can I help you sir?" He asked, his tone of voice much softer than his outward appearance would have suggested. My brain went into overdrive as I tried to form a sentence and not kill him at the same time.

"...y...yes, sir. I...I...was, er, wondering in what direction I might travel if...if...I wanted to find the south coast, sir..."

"South coast? You're in Cumbria sir!"

Oops. This was going to be a somewhat long run.

He laughed, but was helpful nonetheless.

"Due south, young man. That way..." his finger pointing through the trees.

I smiled and thanked the man for his kindness, then set off right away. I would stop only to hunt, or if it were sunny. I would find the south coast, even if it took me months, and I would leave England. I could breathe underwater. Could I swim to France? Why not? I wasn't sure if adrenaline did still flow through my veins, but even if it didn't, I had that feeling now. My life was going to change for the better, I could feel it.

**There we have it... I'm still not sure if I'm happy with it, but with so little known about Carlisle's life, and with my brain that is considerably less imaginative than Stephanie Meyer's, (who, incidentally, is the owner of Twilight, not me), it is difficult to imagine what he would have done between his change and his meeting with the Volturi. So please leave a quick review to tell me what you thought and how I could have made it better! Thanks!**

**PS. For those of you who do not live in the UK and are not familiar with the location of Cumbria, (my home county), it is in the far north west, bordering Scotland; a good 400 miles or more from the south coast and over 300 miles away from London. I will put a link to a map on my profile :D**


	5. Is this Destiny?

**Hello, everyone! Sorry it's taken so long to update- I've been doing my exams and I've also just been generally stuck for ideas. But I think I've found a good one here-please tell me what you think!**

September 1669

The choppy waters stood menacingly before me. La Manche. The English channel. Mainland Europe waited on the other side of the sea. It was a chance for new beginnings, a new life. I could leave behind the majority of my troubles, as I had never left England and I had never met a Frenchman; I would know no one. The thought was somewhat sombre, but I had grown used to the feeling of loneliness now. It would give me the opportunity to become something without worrying about crossing the path of someone from my past.

I was stood on a stone beach, the waves splashing over my bare feet. 4 weeks of running without break except for hunting and sun had worn my stolen shoes through. My clothes, although not as bad as the previous set, were ripped and stained. During the rare times I had had to pass through towns or villages, the people had looked at me with expressions of fear and shock. Who could blame them? I looked like a savage, a monster-I suppose I was one. On one night, I had passed through a village when the inhabitants were grouped around a fire. I had to work hard to control myself as that familiar scent of burning flesh filled my nostrils. It was a witch-burning, and the villagers were surrounding a stake. So many times during my childhood, my father had pulled me along to watch the "witches" that he had "caught" on the streets of London being "purged", as he called it, from the Earth. He said their burning was part of their journey to hell. It was only now, in my state as a vampire, that I realised these witches were not evil beings who used magic to harm us. They were ordinary women, unfairly blamed for any source of troubles. I had to flee as quickly as I could; I knew that I was the only creature in the vicinity worthy of such punishment.

But now I was here. Behind me, the famous white cliffs of Dover stood grandly behind me, their chalk even whiter than my skin. They were intimidating. They seemed to be pushing me away. I didn't need pushing- I was going to do this all by myself. I looked up, and it occurred to me that night had fallen, and it was now safe for me to launch myself into the water without the shocked glances of the human population. I ran forwards and dived in, shocked by the ease and speed in which I could glide through the water, without needing to breathe, or shut my eyes. Within no more than three hours, I could see land before me as I carried out one of my regular come-up-and-look-for-land checks. Within minutes, I was pulling myself up onto shore, my sodden clothes sticking uncomfortably to my body. The beaches were soft and sandy, and the French coast glistened in the moonlight. I couldn't help but grin as I tried to remember the French that my governess had drummed into me during my youth. It was then that I realised how much energy my body had used to swim across an _entire ocean in three hours. _I was thirsty. Very thirsty. I used my remaining energy to find a suitable place to hunt and eventually settled in a forest I later discovered was called the "Forêt de Mormal". I needed a couple of days to clear my head and formulate some form of plan to become part of society considering I had no money, no acquaintances, nor even a single possession, now that the great swim had reduced my already ruined clothes to little more than rags. I realised that I was going to have to rely on charitable locals, if there were any. Just 40 years ago we had been locked in the raging Anglo-French war, and with relations decreasing once again, there were apparently whisperings from both sides of the channel that we could soon become involved in conflict with each other once again. So the likelihood that the French would like to help a savage-like Englishman with supernatural elements seemed very unlikely to me.

Several days later, I was still struggling to see a way forward. Had this French dream been too ambitious? Yes, it had. I had run the length of England and swam the channel riding on a burst of imaginary adrenaline without a single thought of what I would do after I got here. Still, it wasn't all bad. I had acquired a taste for French deer, whose blood, I found, was sweeter than in England. It was little consolation. I had nothing to do but loll around in the forest, trying in vain to amuse myself. France was not as exotic as I'd planned, and, with no resources, I had hit a dead end. I was just contemplating returning to the English village where I had witnessed the stake burning, and giving myself up, when I heard a strange strangled gasp from behind me. I spun around, to see a small elderly lady with an expression of shock painted across her face. However, she didn't look scared- she looked compassionate, almost sad, to see a young man in such a state.

"Monsieur, are you alright?" she asked in fast, accented French. "where are your garments?" she added, evidently shocked at my unavoidable nudity.

"I..I don't have any, Madame" I choked out, my state of shock distorting my already very influent French. I was, however, happily aware of my control; her scent was very enticing, but I didn't feel the urge to pounce on her and empty her body of its blood.

"Oh, you poor young man, come with me at once! Come! Come!"

"are you sur-"

"Yes! Come with me now or you'll catch your death of cold. Come! What is your name young man? And where are you from, your French is terrible!"

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or be worried, but replied hesitantly:

"Carlisle Cullen, Madame, and I come from England."

"England! You brave young man!" she replied, this time in English, as I began to follow her through the woods.

"My name is Esme Pascal. I'll get you some clothes, and a good hot meal down you."

I frowned at the idea of a hot meal, but couldn't believe my luck. I gratefully followed this strange old woman, Esme, to her welcoming woodland cottage which reminded me of the one I had visited in England. I stepped inside and was ushered hastily towards the fireplace, and asked to light a fire- I happily obliged, it was the least I could do. As soon as the fire was roaring, Esme reappeared, clutching in her arms a large pile of men's clothes.

"These belonged to my son, he's about your age. He doesn't need them anymore, take whatever you want, and for goodness sake do it quickly! Can you imagine if the neighbours visit to find a nude young Englishman in my cottage? We will be sent to the gallows!"

I thanked Esme and dressed myself quickly. She returned again, this time with a cup of mulled wine.

"This will get your strength up"

"Oh, no thank you, I'm no-"

"drink it! You must!"

I grimaced, and forced the awful liquid down my throat, trying to suppress a groan when Esme told me the food would be ready in half an hour. I couldn't complain too much though; I had gained a nice new set of clothes and a piece of welcome kindness. So when Esme brought over a rather repulsive looking bowl of what my father used to call "Peasant's gruel", I obligingly forced it down, wondering how my body would react to it. Esme continued her chatter as we ate. I learnt that she had been a widow for more than ten years now-but it didn't matter, she said, as her husband beat her like a dog- but she did grieve terribly for her one son, Sylvain, who had, to her dismay, died in the plague outbreak which had swept across Europe around three years ago. This was why I could have all his clothes, and, she said, his room for tonight. I was truly startled by this old woman's kindness, for merely a naked stranger. I supposed she missed looking after a young man since her son died.

"and what about you?" she asked. "What is a handsome young Englishman doing gallivanting around the French countryside with almost no clothes on?"

I laughed.

"I wasn't gallivanting as such. I've come here in search of a new life, but I've no money or possessions. The clothes I was wearing were ruined because I've been wearing them for months."

Esme gasped, sadly.

"Where are your family?"

"They...they died."

It truly did feel terrible lying to this kind, generous woman, but it was better than the alternative; telling her that, 'o, actually Madame, I'm a blood sucking vampire..." We finished our meal, and I asked if I could get some fresh air before bed. What I really wanted to do outside was to get rid of the wine and the gruel, which I could feel was forcing its way back up, and then to hunt. I went into the trees, and, for the first time, experienced coughing up human food. It was not a pleasant experience, but I felt much better once it was done. I fed on a much more appetising deer, being careful not to dirty my clothes too much, then returned to Esme's cottage before she began to worry. I spent the night lying in bed, contemplating what I was sure was the happiest day in this life. It felt so good to be able to talk to someone, and, even better, Esme seemed to have no suspicions about my being- I seemed to be doing a good job at pretending to be human. After what seemed like only ten minutes, the sun began to shine through the curtains, and I was jumped out of my imagination by a brisk knock on the door.

"Monsieur Cullen, it is time for your breakfast!"

_~~ 3 years later~~_

Ever since Esme had invited me to stay with her to keep her company throughout my old age, my life had changed for the better. It felt so fulfilling, helping someone else who was clearly as lonely as I had been, especially when Esme was such a delight to be around; her sense of humour bizarrely, given that she was a seventy three year old woman, reminded me of Humphrey. I had to find ways of getting out of as many meals as possible; I would often get up early and tell Esme I had already taken breakfast, but, in all honesty, the meals didn't bother me too much when they were exchange for companionship and a sense of purpose in life. However, the day my life really changed was the day when Esme told me she was going to take me on a day trip to a nearby city. We were walking down the main street when my ears picked up a startling cry of pain. I rushed in the direction of the sound, a confused Esme struggling to keep up with me. I quickly found the source of the scream- a man was wailing on the ground, a large horse beside him, which galloped away when I approached. I could smell blood, but I knew this man needed help.

"I fell...off...my...horse...and...she...stepped...on...me!" he wailed, the pain evident in his voice.

I held my breath and found the wound in his left leg. Blood was pouring out at a worrying speed, so I remove my jacket and wrapped it tightly around it.

"Esme, go and find a doctor" I said, feeling helpless about what I should do next. Luckily, it turned out there was a hospital on the next street, and Esme soon returned with an important looking middle aged man. The doctor thanked me and took over the man's care.

Later on, Esme and I decided to return to pay a visit to the unfortunate injured man. It turned out that the wound was going to be ok after all. Just as we were preparing to leave, the doctor came over to speak to us.

"Cullen, is it?" he asked, his accent unlike Esme's, or indeed anyone I had met during my time in France.

"yes sir" I replied.

"I was very impressed with your actions today, Mr Cullen. Without your quick thinking, this man would have probably lost too much blood to survive. I think you have great potential in this field, and, with your permission, I'm going to recommend you for a place at the medical school I trained at in my home city of Florence, in Italy. I do hope you'll accept."

I was truly shocked- this was the chance I needed to become something of any value to the world! Or it would have been, if I had the money to survive as a medical student-buy textbooks, pay for lodgings- which I didn't.

"Thank you so much for such an honourable invitation" I replied sadly "but I cannot accept."

"Ridiculous, Carlisle!" exclaimed Esme, passionately. "You would be brilliant! Why can you not accept this wonderful offer?"

"I don't have any money, anything. I couldn't achieve anything without a penny to my name."

Esme's face cast a desolate expression, and I could see the sorrow in her eyes. I had become her surrogate son, and she wanted me to become successful. We made our preparations to leave the hospital and go back home. I stood by the door whilst Esme talked once again with the kind Italian doctor. I couldn't hear what they were saying, though I assumed she was apologising again for my reluctant refusal of a place at University.

Later that evening, once we had both settled and I had managed to hunt- something very necessary, given that I had had to endure much of the day within a close proximity to human blood- Esme came and sat with me, clutching something protectively in her hands.

"Carlisle. I want you to go to medical school in Florence, and you will go. This-" she indicated towards her hands- "is a bag containing my family's life savings. It's not too much, but it's enough to get you settled there. I want you to have it."

"Esme, I can't take your life savings! We're not even family, and what will you do?"

"Nonsense, Carlisle! You have become like a son to me, and I am an old and dying woman. I don't need this anymore. It is in God's will that I give it to someone who can put it to some use, and whom I love. You have your entire life ahead of you, and the potential to become a brilliant doctor. You are so like my poor Sylvain, and I would have wanted this for him. Please, honour his soul and memory and take the money and go to Florence."

"I don't know what to say, Esme, other than thank you! You are the most wonderful person I've met! I cannot begin to imagine what my life would have been like without your charity!"

"Then don't. Instead, imagine what your life could become! I can already see it, dear. I predict within ten years you will be one of the finest doctors in Europe, and you'll have beautiful women lining up at your door, and marry the most beautiful one of all!"

I laughed, and decided to play along.

"O really? And what will my wife be called?"

She thought for a minute then exclaimed, to my amusement:

"Esme! If I am too old and ugly for a handsome young man like you, then it must be a younger and prettier Esme who can marry you for me!" she joked. "Seriously, though, dear Carlisle. I was talking again to the doctor earlier. I told him of my plans to set you up with some money. He is sending a carriage at sunrise tomorrow. You should go to bed now, dear. It's an awful long way from here to Italy, you need all the energy you can find."

I thanked her again for her ultimate kindness, then obligingly, (yet of course, unnecessarily,) went upstairs to bed. Tomorrow this life truly would change forever.

**There you go! This is of course why this chapter is called "Is this Destiny?"-with the first Esme and the start of Carlisle's medical career! I really hope you enjoyed it. Please drop a quick review- it takes no more than about 30 seconds of your life! **


	6. Volterra

**And I'm back...sorry, this chapter took longer than anticipated! I hope you enjoy it! **

As the horse and carriage pulled up outside Esme's cottage, I contemplated the sheer enormity of what lay ahead for me. I had spent the entire night wondering and worrying about my new life studying medicine in Florence. I worried about the sunlight, which in Italy was certain to be a considerable problem. I hoped that I could spend much of my time indoors and out of the wary eye of my human peers. I thought about my studies. Was I even capable enough to become a doctor? And then there was the blood. I was surprised by how well I had coped with the man in the street but how would I react to constant exposure? Would I grow used to it and forget the scent existed? Or would it drive me insane? Or worst of all, would I give in to my natural vampire instincts for the first time? As the footman took my belongings (all of which came from Esme), these thus far unanswerable questions swam through my head again.

"Carlisle. My second son" came a sorrowful voice behind me. Esme was dabbing away tears as she came to embrace me.

"Are you sure you want me to go?" I couldn't help the overwhelming sense of guilt. This woman had given me everything I had, and had already lost her beloved biological son.

"Of course, Carlisle- don't be ridiculous! You will go, and you will do me proud."

We embraced again and I climbed into the carriage. I waved as the horses began to pull away, and sombrely realised that this was without any doubt the last time we would ever see each other. Even if I did return, I assumed she would be with God by then. Her health had been deteriorating recently, and she said herself that she was old and dying. I knew my only way to honour her was to become the best doctor I could be.

After a tediously long coach journey which last several days, stretching the entire length of France and a long way into Italy, I had finally arrived in Florence. To my relief, the weather was overcast, and I could settle myself in without the worry of my sparkling skin being spotted by the natives. I moved into my room which was rented from the university, and went to explore- the main intention was finding a rural area where I could hunt. I was successful in this quest as such, and set about acquainting myself with the city. I also had to learn Italian, and with just three weeks until my studies began, I set about this right away.

It was now about six months since I had began studying in Florence. I had settled surprisingly well. My Italian was nearly perfect, I had fit into a safe feeding pattern in a forest in rural Tuscany, and I was enjoying my studies immensely, and was surprised and delighted to find that I seemed to be a natural at medicine. Whilst the constant smell of blood involved had somewhat troubled me in my early weeks at the university, I was now beginning to ignore it. For now, the main problem was the weather. Florence, as I had suspected, was not a place where I could walk around for too long outside, for the weather was usually gloriously sunny. My peers would often go out to study in the gardens after lessons, but I would always have to make excuses to avoid being discovered. This meant that some of my classmates found me too proud, and I had few friends, but I knew that there was no other option. I had become used to the idea that I was resigned to a lonely existence, that I could not maintain ties with people I cared about.

It was for this reason that I was surprised to discover, one Friday afternoon, that I had a visitor. I was told by my landlord that he was waiting in my room.

I entered the room, pausing as I looked at my visitor. It was not anyone I knew. But his snow white skin and blood red eyes told me instantly that he was one of my kind. His black hair reached down to his shoulders, and his physique was tall and lean.

"Cullen, I presume?" The man's voice was deep and calm. His eyes narrowed.

"Yes, that's me...is there anything I can help you with?"

"My name is Demetri. I come on behalf of the Volturi. I assume you are aware who we are?"

Volturi. That name rang a bell. My mind flashed back to my encounter with the nomads in England. The rich and powerful rule-makers of our kind. The merciless all-knowing "vampire police". I could only manage a nod as I worried about what was about to happen to me.

"Do explain, Mr Cullen. Your eyes. I have not seen a vampire with amber eyes in my six hundred years!"

"I feed only on animal blood."

"Animal blood! How very interesting! Aro will find this most fascinating!"

"Aro?"

"Our leader, Aro. He would very much like for you to come to our home in Volterra, it's only a few miles from here."

I nodded thickly again, before venturing to speak.

"How...how did you know I was here?"

"I have a gift, Mr Cullen. I find people. Aro would like to...how should I word this? Analyse you. Just to make sure you know what's right and wrong. Don't be afraid, Aro is most gracious to those who pose no threat to our kind."

"I don-"

"Aro's gift will be the judge of that, Mr Cullen. Shall we go?"

I could see I had no choice, so agreed.

"Excellent."

And with that, we were suddenly zooming through the Tuscan countryside, being careful as to dodge the blazing sunlight when near humans. No more than ten minutes later, we were approaching a beautiful, stereotypically Italian town, perched elegantly on a steep hill. I guessed this was Volterra. At its peak stood a grand castle. It looked fit for King Charles the second himself.

As we climbed up the town through the cobbled streets, and the castle came into better view, Demetri watched me stare with wonder at the beautiful architecture stooping high above me below the now overcast sky. I wondered who was lucky enough to own it. Demetri cocked his head slightly.

"Home sweet home." His voice sounded slightly arrogant, but I assumed that came with the power he held as one of the guards for the most powerful coven of vampires in the world.

I followed him through doors and gates, and finally into the castle itself.

The architecture of the place was simply incredible, I thought to myself, as Demetri lead me through the corridors. The entrance was a large grand area, the walls marble white, with red hangings for magnificent decoration. Red carpet covered the marble floor of the long corridors joined onto the entrance, and elegant portraits of beautiful women lined the walls. These corridors were long and narrow, and there was not a single window, meaning that they were eerily dark, lit only by the flame torches on the walls. I followed Demetri down two staircases until we reached a large wooden double door. The detail of the castle was exquisite, even down to these doors. I examined them briefly. Engraved into the wood was a large crest- I assumed, the crest of the Volturi family or coven.

Demetri stopped me here.

"Aro, Marcus and Caius are in here, Mr Cullen, the throne room."

I nodded weakly, the fear etched on my face.

"You should keep in mind my favourite English proverb, Mr Cullen-" Demetri added, for the first time in English rather than Italian. "He who hath nothing to hide hath nothing to fear. And I am right in thinking you do have nothing to hide, aren't I?"

"Of course" I replied. Not that I knew of, I thought. Demetri smiled in a perhaps too friendly way.

"Fantastico. Then the Volturi are your friends, Mr Cullen." And with that, he opened the door. The throne room, as Demetri called it, was a round marble room with an intricately paved floor and an astoundingly high ceiling. My eyes had to adjust to the new source of light, for this room had windows, which were very high up, assumingly to avoid any humans who dared to get too close to seeing the supernatural inhabitants of the castle for what they really were- vampires. My mind flickered back to a festival I had read about in Volterra, St Marcus' day, a celebration of the eradication of vampires from the city. I chuckled inwardly at the sheer irony of it, and remembered instantly that one of the Volturi leaders was named Marcus, and wondered if this was just a coincidence or not.

However, I had little time for wayward thinking and my eyes set on what was undoubtedly the centrepiece of the room. Some steps lead to an elevated level of the room where there sat three grand thrones. What was even more intimidating was that in the thrones sat three expensively dressed men, undoubtedly Marcus, Caius and Aro.

The vampire in the middle throne stood up, his long dark hair falling elegantly about his shoulders, a large, insincere grin spread across his pale face.

"Mr Cullen, how wonderful to be acquainted with you, I am Aro Volturi, please do come and shake my hand!"

I walked slowly forward, whilst Aro added to Demetri-

"Demetri, don't think we can't hear your judging through that door. Please remember you are a member of our guard only, and you do not make the rules."

Demetri looked embarrassed and mumbled an apology in Latin, before going to stand behind the thrones.

I was now stood right before Aro, and slowly took his extended hand. As we shook, to my surprise, Aro clasped my hand tightly without letting go.

"Hmm. How interesting. Quite fascinating, Mr Cullen. English...religious...I say, a former vampire hunter, oh the irony!" He roared with high pitched laughter and turned to face Caius and Marcus, without letting go of my hand. They did not laugh, but smiled strangely back, their stares fixated on me. Aro seemed unimpressed with their muted reactions, and turned back to me, scanning every little thing I had ever thought, every memory.

"Studying to be a doctor...animal blood!" He laughed again. "That is most fascinating! The amount of compassion it must take to abstain from the richness of human blood! It's quite incredible!"

"So he is peculiar, Aro. What we need to know is has he broken a rule or does he have a gift?"

"Well, no, but isn't he fascinating! Carlisle, is it? Yes, Carlisle, please do stay with us a while- I am eager to understand you and your...interesting diet."

Caius and Marcus looked unimpressed, but it was clear to me that Aro had all the control, and compared to him, they were powerless. So I agreed to stay on the condition that I could go to hunt for animal blood when appropriate and of course continue my medical studies, which, to my surprise, Aro agreed to. I was definitely frightened of him, but that was nothing compared to my fear later on in the day when I met the other members of their guard...

**...Which you will find out all about in the next chapter! I will try to get the next one finished much sooner than this one but I am excited to be starting university in a couple of weeks so I will be very busy. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please R and R- every review is cherished and replied to. Thank you very much! xxx**


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